In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 124: Goblet
A fast drop, with feet onto the cool grass, Harry and Hermione. A formation, one Harry recognized, the students in front of the castle of Hogwarts; the front row, Gryffindor boys.
"We're…" Hermione started.
"Fourth year," Harry said.
Harry studied that row. In the middle stood Harry. Harry took the mental roll count, younger years between Harry and the older ones to the wings. Fred and George took the outer points.
"Smarten up!" Professor McGonagall snapped.
"We're students," Harry whispered.
Harry moved, a wedging in as Harry moved.
"Been a year!" Harry seethed.
"Later," Harry whispered.
Darkness of the evening that began to set in, the pale moon above the forest, when the fast footsteps, of Percy ran down.
"Barty Crouch sends his regrets," Percy said, "I'll—"
"In a moment," said Professor McGonagall.
Gasps as the Beauxbatons chariot descended. Door that opened, the girls that came out.
"Welcome, welcome," said Professor Dumbledore, "Special…greeting, a fast introduction."
Each of the girls in blue walked past the boys of Gryffindor.
"Karkaroff will be late," said Percy to the Headmaster, "At least a couple of hours."
"No point in holding up the feast," Professor Dumbledore said.
Gryffindor boys took the lead, up to the castle. Harry ran over to Percy.
"Nice," Harry said.
Percy walked with Harry, Hermione to the side, up toward the entered the castle. Harry turned, entered the Great Hall, the boys of Gryffindor were sitting with the girls of Beauxbatons. A rumble, the footsteps on the stairs.
"I was told two hours," Percy said.
Other boys, those from Durmstrang swaddled in fur, marched up the steps, entered to join the Slytherin table. Harry spotted Draco Malfoy grinning, sitting next to Hermione.
"Sorry about that," Karkaroff said to Professor Dumbledore, "Even trade winds of magic can be unpredictable."
"You made it," Professor Dumbledore said, "That's what's important."
Heavier, the large woman, Madame Maxime came up the steps.
"Zee Dumble," Madame Maxime said, "anding rough, carriage needs…work."
"Never fear Madame," said Professor Dumbledore, "Temporary lodging will be provided."
Harry glanced at the boys of Gryffindor, lined up alternating one after girl after girl.
"Can't leave anything alone," Hermione whispered.
"Feast or me?" Harry asked.
Her eyes to him.
"It's been years," Harry said.
Hermione snorted.
"What do you want?" Harry asked as he leaned in to her, "Be her? Be you?"
"I can't change that," Hermione said.
"No," Harry said, "Can only change what you will do."
"You want to," Hermione said.
Harry moved them both, to the end of the Gryffindor Table, next to Fred and George to either side.
"Excuse—" Fred started.
"Sitting," Harry suggested.
Fred and George slid, made room for Harry and Hermione to sit across from each other.
"We'll need to talk," Harry said, "Please?"
"One…" Harry yawned, took a moment to move..
Harry grabbed the shoulders, pulled the other out into the Entrance Hall, into an empty classroom.
"You missed a year," Harry said, the anger that came forth.
"I can't loiter," Harry said, "I've not been given that option… some control, yes, but not a lot. There's something I'm missing…something to put Voldemort at a disadvantage."
"Took out his loyal servant," Harry said, "Sirius Black got kissed."
"Realize he was innocent?" Harry asked.
"Um…" Harry asked, "Really?"
"It was Peter Pettigrew—they switched at the last moment," Harry said, "Dumbledore didn't know that it was Pettigrew who ratted out Mum and Dad."
"Pettigrew—" Harry started.
"Cut off a finger," Harry said, "An animagus that became Percy's and then Ron's pet rat."
"Really?" Harry said, "We thought it died, couldn't find it."
Harry turned, the spin.
"Still in motion then," Harry said, "That's why the broom refuses…gotta stop it. How…the question is how."
"You're always doing this?" Harry asked.
"Gone into the Forbidden Forest?" Harry asked.
"No," Harry replied.
"Sorted anything…second year," Harry said, "After Ginny—"
"Went home," Harry said, "Ron mentioned all the debate in the Ministry about closing Hogwarts, permanently."
"World cup?" Harry asked.
"Yep," Harry said, "Big mess at the end, stayed together and got to the Portkey."
Harry understood the severity, the black haired teenager, himself, wasn't spurned on by Hermione.
"Get back to the feast," Harry said, "Best not to start Halloween on an empty stomach."
Harry grinned.
"I'll go check up on Hagrid," Harry said.
"Gone—went mental after the execution of a Hippogriff," Harry said, "Suppose things are now different."
The boy walked, and Harry followed. Harry motioned, and Hermione walked out of the Great Hall.
"They were—" Hermione started.
"Picnic basket," Harry stated.
Feet down the steps, to the painting. Harry tickled the pear on the painting, and they entered.
"Picnic basket for dinner," Harry said.
"Not liking the food?" the House Elf asked.
"I'm asking for a basket of it," Harry said, "Private business."
"Oh…oh," the House Elf said.
A snap of the fingers, the basket that appeared.
"Thank you," Harry said, as the elf barricaded his ears.
Harry sighed, the walk up the steps, out the front door into the darkness.
"Hope…" Harry said as they approached the darkened hut.
Cobwebs greeted them as they entered, and Harry set the basket down on the table.
"Haven't eaten in years," Harry quipped.
"We're…" Hermione started.
Harry aimed, lit the fire, the warmth and glow that returned. Harry filled the tea kettle from the tap, hung it from the fire.
"We're staying?" Hermione asked.
"Gotta rest too," Harry said, "Hagrid's gone, doubt he'd mind."
Hermione shook her head.
"That Harry—he's a total wuss without you around," Harry said, "Wanted to show you—showing myself how much you matter."
Hermione blushed.
"Tempt fate?" Harry asked, pulled the tin of treacle fudge down.
"Teach you to keep your mouth shut," Hermione said.
Harry snorted, turned to the table, when the kettle whistled. He added the tea bags to the cups, poured in the hot water, and sat across from her.
"Could go and watch Mad Eye…" Harry said, "Mean Barty Crouch Junior put my name into the cup."
"Or stop him," Hermione said, "You said it yourself, that Harry isn't ready."
"You forget… Voldemort or a Death Eater, from our time, is here," Harry said, "Or this is permanent and we've lost our future."
"Oh no—Ron!" Hermione snapped.
"We go and stop that—and that'd clue in Voldemort that I'm here," Harry said, "Don't want him knowing about our way in."
"Doesn't always let us back out," Hermione said.
"Feels a bit…sentient," Harry said, "The broom, keeping me from making a royal mistake."
Harry sipped at the tea; then opened the basket. Smells of the fried chicken stirred the hunger within, and Harry reached in. Greasy fingers slipped on the skin as he ate. Hermione buttered and ate into the bread, along with the steamed green beans.
"We'll do as Moody did," Harry said, "Help him, as needed. We know the tasks."
"Things could be different," Hermione said, "And they're supposed to do it themselves."
"My name's about to come out of that goblet," Harry said, "I'll be a champion too."
Burp!
Harry chased a bit more tea, felt groggy enough, that he slumbered over to the large framed single half–giant bed, and laid down. Warmth to the cabin, his head to the pillow, and he fell to sleep.
Harry woke the next morning, his throat hoarse.
"You screamed a bit," Hermione said, sitting at the table. She had parchment with an open book, the quill that moved.
Harry stood, and leaned over to glance at the roll with funny symbols.
"At least I can do my arithmacy," Hermione said.
"Can't get credit," Harry said.
"You know what we're up against," Hermione said, "I'd rather be prepared."
Harry sighed, couldn't argue more with her. He paced.
"I'll be up at the feast tonight," Harry said.
"Unless—" Hermione said.
"This one's important," Harry said, "Death eaters are going to watch it too—more than Junior."
Harry opened the cabin door, walked out, into the cool morning. Dampness of the grass, Harry walked up the hill, back to the steps, and up into the castle. He walked past the goblet perched on its casket, entered the Great Hall, half–full of students.
"Harry," came Fred's voice.
Harry stepped up to the end of the table, Fred to the right, George to the left, and several of the girls of Beauxbatons.
"Try this," Fred handed over a mug of pumpkin juice.
Harry sipped.
"Mind if I sit?" Harry asked.
"Thought you wouldn't ask," Fred said.
Fred removed the wand, the aim, and a chair appeared right behind Harry. Harry sat on it, the raised thing, a high chair, though the seat wasn't quite right.
"King of the table," Jordan said.
"Came to eat," Harry said.
Harry reached, brought over the plate of sausages. A quick dip to his hip pocket, Harry counted out his pills, took them.
"Old man already?" George asked.
"Other reasons," Harry said, not wanting to elaborate.
Harry leaned forward, worked the eggs, the sausages, the beans on toast, and ate.
Percy entered, walked past and up to the head table. Professor McGonagall's eyes that watched and Percy sat next to her, the whispers to the witch.
"Watch the other houses," George said.
Harry spotted it with ease, the jealousy of Gryffindor boys hosting the ladies of Beauxbatons.
"At least you pushed Percy to be…cool," Fred said.
"This one's…better," Harry said, biting his tongue to the other truth, that Percy in the future was already dead.
Harry worked the food, heard the cheer. A turn, Cedric Diggory put his name into the goblet. Footsteps of the Durmstrang students leaving the Slytherin table, marching by the goblet. Draco Malfoy grinned, Hermione hugging his arm as they walked toward the door.
"Before the cock parade," Draco Malfoy said to her, and they left.
"That's a nice idea," Fred said as Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws left the Great Hall.
Fred stood. George stood, a fast joust with his loins. Jordan stood.
The turn, the lot marched to the Entrance Hall, where the oldest of them, the seventh years, slipped their parchment into the goblets. Fred took a vial out of his pocket, along with a slip of parchment. A sip, and Fred went for the goblet, while George took the vial. Jordan took a sip, and tossed his parchment toward the goblet. One by one, the parchment slips went back, the beards that grew on the three.
"Not going to try?" Harry asked, "You're old enough."
"Sixteen," Harry said, "No, not worried about it."
Harry turned for the steps.
"Coming—" Harry started.
"Hogsmeade," Harry said.
"Not…they didn't sign," Harry said.
"If you had rescued Sirius—he would've signed," Harry said, "Like he signed mine."
"Black could?" Harry asked.
"As our godfather, yes," Harry said.
A glum frown to Harry's face.
"See you later—the feast."
"Won't go jumping—whatever?" Harry asked.
"This…this one's important enough," Harry said.
Harry turned, left the castle. Invisibility to himself, made the trek along the path. He could go faster, but the rain felt a bit refreshing, and he'd been going too fast as of late.
Ring! Ring!
Harry heard the chime as he opened to door to Honeydukes, though paused.
"Good morning Minister!" came Percy shout.
A turn, Percy stopped by The Three Broomsticks as Cornelius Fudge approached.
"You're clearly excited," said Fudge.
"Plenty to be excited about," Percy said, "Mind?"
A motion, Percy held the door as Fudge entered.
"Intrigued by the change?" came the much closer voice.
Harry spun, the Headmaster there.
"As much as you try to not be surprised," the Headmaster said, "I still manage."
Professor Dumbledore motioned, and Harry entered the shop. Inside, the selection of chocolate frogs, the licorice, and other sweets.
Harry sighed, briefly held some white chocolate tops that spun up, before they spun back into the jar. Harry opened the door, gestured, and Professor Dumbledore walked out first.
Professor Dumbledore said, "You know..what's to come."
"Things are different," Harry said, "Yet similar."
Harry stood there, on the porch.
"He's not confident for what's to come," Harry said, "If it plays out remotely the same—and I've only got a bit over two years on him now."
A sigh.
"Did you know Sirius Black was innocent?" Harry asked.
Eyes of concern to Harry.
"Him and Pettigrew switched being secret keepers," Harry said, "You weren't told so you didn't know."
"Hogs Head," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Don't let your brother impersonate you," Harry said.
"Never," Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry walked with the old man, along high street, the turn to the familiar more tattered inn of Hogsmeade, and they entered.
"Upstairs," said Professor Dumbledore to Aberforth behind the bar.
Harry took the stairs, up into the upstairs loft. His wand out before Dumbledore's, the flick as the doors sealed themselves.
"Magic outside Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Luckily I'm not your student," Harry said, "I'm under a different Dumbledore."
A smirk to the lips, though a flick to that wand and the armchair that appeared, one that the Headmaster sat on.
"Your Harry won't make it," Harry said, "Not experienced—suppose that's what Voldemort was after, a pacifist."
"Determined on the pitch," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Anything since the stone?" Harry said, "He didn't confront Tom Riddle, he didn't find out the truth to Sirius—did him and Ron even steal the car?"
"What did you do?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
Harry turned for the fire.
"I coddled when he needed to be made sterner," Harry said, "Maybe that took it out of him."
"Even with hindsight—you're not able to predict the outcomes," Professor Dumbledore said.
"No, no I'm not," Harry said.
Professor Dumbledore stood next to Harry, the hand to the shoulder.
"A fault to care?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Maybe," Harry said.
"A good soul would not condemn you to the Dursleys," Professor Dumbledore said, "Except you needed to be able to stand up to Lord Voldemort."
Harry thought he understood.
"Capable to defeat him?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"No," Harry said.
"Would you try?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Think so," Harry said.
"You did in the Chamber of Secrets—twice if I understand it properly," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Thanks," Harry said, "Best for you to return to the castle?"
"That's where I'm paid to do my work," Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry smirked.
"Nice talking," Harry said, "Mine…we don't usually have the time we need."
"One rarely does," Professor Dumbledore replied, "I'll get Aberforth to send up a bit of tea."
"Thanks," Harry said.
Professor Dumbledore turned, left the parlor of the loft. Harry stayed there, let the heat soak as he stood by the fire.
Hermione sipped at the cold tea, worked the quill more to the parchment on the table. A moment to think, the brush of the feather. A creak to the door, the fur that passed her feet. Hermione recognized the tabby cat with spectacle outlines, though, she picked it up.
"Not Crookshanks," Hermione said, "You'll do, Professor."
A couple of pets before the jump. Professor McGonagall leapt, feet to the floor, and stood in the emerald green.
"You know but—" Professor McGonagall started.
"Masquerading as a house cat," Hermione said, "Don't be surprised about the belly rubs."
Professor McGonagall's thin lips curled upward, the tight smile.
"In a house that's supposed to be empty," Professor McGonagall said, "The light carried."
"Staying out of the way," Hermione said, "Everything we did…made it worse. I stood by when the first change occurred, and she's a suckup to Malfoy."
Light footsteps as Harry stood behind the Professor.
"About time for the feast," Harry said.
"If you'll excuse me." Professor McGonagall left the hut.
Hermione surveyed Harry, the bottle green eyes.
"I forgave the pain of it years ago," Hermione said, "I was vulnerable and it stung. So whoever set this up prodded Draco into taking me in, and he took me to his dormitory; I wasn't in the bathroom when the troll invaded. One little act."
"We rescued you—once we realized," Harry said, "Ron…think he's matured since then, a wee bit."
Hermione snorted.
"Be nice to go home," Hermione said.
"Unless we stop this—this reality will be our home," Harry said.
"Two of us?" Hermione asked.
"You're the time turner expert," Harry said, "You tell me."
"If it were a time turner," Hermione said, "We'd already be gone, because time heals itself."
"Which means Voldemort's not using a time turner," Harry said, "Treat you to a feast."
Harry held out his arm, and she stood.
"Let's go," Harry said, the arm that stretched out.
Hermione held his hand, and they walked out of the hut.
"Destroy the goblet," Hermione said.
Harry shook his head.
"I'd just be kidnapped then," Harry said, "And with this push over, he'd be dead before he returned."
Up the steps, they entered the castle, the disillusionment to them both.
In lieu of the long tables, smaller standing tables, however, also pedestals marked off for Gryffindors. Harry worked up two of the girls of Beauxbatons.
"He's confident," Harry said.
"Will he be as confident in an hour?" Hermione asked.
"Might be Bellatrix who's doing this?" Harry whispered.
"You think…" Hermione started.
"Somebody's watching," Harry whispered, "Stay…disillusioned."
"Bellatrix…I think she's Malfoy's aunt," Hermione whispered.
"Oh…" Harry whispered, "Explains his…being prodded."
Hermione reached for the punch, took a sip when Percy walked up.
"Spirits are up," Hermione said to Percy.
Percy blushed.
"You," Percy said.
"Penelope?" Hermione asked.
"Appreciated…trying to find another," Percy said.
"Available?" Hermione asked.
Percy blushed.
"Boning up on official duties?" asked Fred.
A chime rang as the goblet was moved into the Great Hall.
"Gather around," said Professor Dumbledore.
"Duty calls," Percy whispered.
"Mr. Weasley!" snapped Professor Dumbledore.
"Apologies…" Percy said.
"On the authority of Mr. Crouch," Percy said, "On behalf of her majesty's Department of International Magical Co–operation, I declare this selection, open to start."
Percy bowed.
Darkness, the deep red from the top of the goblet, before it spat out the parchment. Professor Dumbledore opened it.
"Best to have a teacher read student handwriting," Professor Dumbledore said, "The champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!"
"One down," Harry whispered.
"You touch it?" Hermione asked.
"Don't need to," Harry replied.
Applause.
"Bravo, Viktor!" shouted Karkaroff.
Another parchment, Hermione knew the name before the Headmaster read it.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Professor Dumbledore, "Is Fleur Delacour!"
More applause.
"Renew it now," Harry suggested, "I'll go in with him."
Harry's wand in his hand, the flick and swish, and he vanished. Hermione pulled her wand out, the casting of it, her limbs vanished.
"The Hogwarts champion," Professor Dumbledore announced, "Is Cedric Diggory."
"Now," Harry whispered.
Hermione found the invisible hand, they walked up to the staff table, along with the three others.
"Look," said Professor Snape.
Murmurs, commotion, as the Headmaster reached for the final slip that floated out. A moment before he cleared his throat.
"Harry Potter."
Hermione went through the door into the antechamber, as did Harry. Cedric, Viktor, and Fleur were already by the fireplace. A moment later, Harry entered, the downward gaze.
"Expect you're happy about this," said Karkaroff.
Professor Dumbledore entered, along with Percy, and Mad Eye Moody.
"Harry—Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, "Did you put your name into the goblet?"
"No," Harry said.
"Somebody else?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"No," Harry said.
"You?" asked Karkaroff, the eyes toward the Headmaster.
"The Headmaster has always shown a certain favoritism toward the spoiled brat," Professor Snape said.
"Use your noggin," said Mad Eye Moody, "That goblet's a powerful magical object. It'd need an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to hamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete."
"Percy?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
Percy stood in the middle.
"I double checked the rules," Percy said, as he held the parchment, "It's clear, whoever's name comes out of that goblet is magically bound. Harry has no choice, he's obligated to compete."
"There's going to be a protest to the International Confederation of Wizards," said Madame Maxime.
"Please do," said Professor Dumbledore, "In the meanwhile—"
"Why fret?" Karkaroff said to the giant of a Headmistress, "Like that thing has a chance."
Percy cleared his voice.
"During this tournament," Percy said, "Champions are not allowed to ask for, or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks."
Percy took a deep breath.
"First task will take place November twenty fourth," Percy said, "Designed to test your daring under fire, so you're not to be told anything."
"Karkaroff — Maxime — a nightcap?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
Madame Maxime already had her arm around Fleur's shoulders, leading her swiftly out of the room. Karkaroff motioned, and Viktor moved with him. Mad Eye Moody and Professor Snape left. Cedric bumped Harry's shoulder as he left. Harry and Percy left.
"And thank you for your discretion," said Professor Dumbledore, the eyes that aimed toward Hermione.
Harry turned visible, and Hermione.
"It's already different," Harry said, "It was Crouch and Bagman here."
"Bagman's not been seen since the world cup," Professor Dumbledore said, "And Mr. Crouch's been particularly busy since then. It was nice of young Percy to step up and carry on the tournament."
Harry paced.
"I remember it," Harry said.
"You know how his name made it in?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"If it's the same," Harry said, "Then, no, it wasn't Harry—or me."
Harry turned.
"Know he's not feeling it," Harry said, "I'll keep an eye out for him."
"You're…?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Sixteen," Harry said.
"Yet I'm more confident in you than any of them," Professor Dumbledore said, "Don't get caught."
"Why fret?" Harry said, "My name came out of the goblet, I'm a champion too."
"I see why Tom wants to meddle in your history," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Story of my life," Harry said, "Until later."
Harry reached, held Hermione's elbow. They walked out into the empty Great Hall. Hermione felt the tightness, the disapparation, apparation, into the darkness of the Gryffindor boys dormitory.
"Shh…" Harry whispered.
Though four of the five four poster beds were empty, one had its curtain drawn, and Harry stared out the window. Harry walked over to him, stood behind.
"I'm…I'm screwed," Harry said.
"Practice summoning charms," Harry said.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Practice them until you can summon that Firebolt from here to the Quidditch Pitch," Harry replied.
"Odd," Harry said.
"Practice as your life depends on it," Harry said.
Harry took Hermione out the door.
"We're…going through with this?" Hermione asked.
"Leave now and Voldemort returns with this fellow to stand in the way," Harry said, "How'd you think that works out?"
Hermione sighed, knew this was going to take a while.
Date:Fri Oct 4 21:34:14 2024